


Eliot what’s-his-face

by meils121



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M, Immortality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:15:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25907203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meils121/pseuds/meils121
Summary: “You’re still on this?”  Hardison asks, because they’ve been having this discussion for a month and he still can’t convince her that their new next door neighbor isn’t immortal and/or a time traveler.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37
Collections: The Leverage Exchange Master Collection





	Eliot what’s-his-face

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BurningTea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningTea/gifts).



There’s a loud thump as Parker drops a large textbook down in front of Hardison. “I found him.” She says triumphantly. “So there.”

Hardison stares at the book. “Knives by the Numbers?” He reads outloud. “What is this?”

“The answer we’ve been looking for.” Parker says. She wiggles her eyebrows. Hardison thinks she’s trying to be mysterious, but it’s not exactly working. “It’s him. I found him.”

“Who, babe?”

Parker sighs. “Um, the guy next door? Eliot what’s-his-face?”

Right. Right. “You’re still on this?” Hardison asks, because they’ve been having this discussion for a month and he still can’t convince her that their new next door neighbor isn’t immortal and/or a time traveller. 

Parker ignores the question. She flips the book open to a page she already has bookmarked and stabs a finger at a picture. “It’s him.” She says again. 

And - well, actually, Parker might have a point. Not that Hardison believes that their neighbor is three hundred years old or some nonsense like that, but he does have to admit the man in the pictures bears a striking resemblance to their neighbor. 

“He looks similar.” Hardison concedes. 

“Not just similar. Identical.” Parker says. “And this picture was taken in 1903.”

“Maybe it’s his grandfather.” Hardison says. 

Parker pouts a little. She really does think she’s onto something, Hardison realizes. And he’s never been good at saying no to her.

“How about I run this picture and a picture of the guy next door in my facial recognition software?” Hardison asks before Parker can say anything. “We’ll see what comes up.”

Parker beams and throws her arms around him. “Thank you!”

\---

As it turns out, Parker might have been right all along. Which should not - in any way - be possible, but here Hardison is staring at his computer screen and wondering what, exactly, their neighbor is. There are eight images on the screen - one of their neighbor Eliot’s ID photo, the one Parker showed him a few days ago, four paintings showing a man with features undeniably identical to Eliot’s, and two drawings that are similarly identical. 

More concerning, though, are the accounts that he finds in corners of the internet that most people don’t know about. It’s not that he totally discounts the idea of immortality, but he doesn’t quite know what to think about his own neighbor being immortal. But there’s accounts of Eliot going back centuries. He doesn’t even change his name. Which is weird, Hardison thinks, if he’s trying to hide the fact he’s immortal. Maybe he doesn’t care? That seems like something you’d care about.

Parker is triumphant when he admits that she’d been right all along. One day, he’ll learn that her crazy ideas are rarely as out-there as they first appear. He thinks that until she decides the best course of action is to march next door and talk to Eliot about being immortal. 

“Uh, Parker, I’m not so sure -”

He doesn’t even get to finish the sentence. Parker is already out the door. He hears her knocking on Eliot’s door. Okay, then. He’s about to go confront someone about being immortal. This should be a totally normal experience.

Except it turns out that it is - not normal, but not completely weird either. Eliot answers the door and eyes them both with some suspicion before letting them in the apartment. 

“Well?” He says after a few moments of silence. Parker looks like she’s trying very hard not to reach out and poke Eliot. 

“How old are you actually?” Parker asks bluntly.

Eliot raises an eyebrow, which is mildly terrifying. “Took you long enough.” He says. “Mr. Hacker over here didn’t believe you?”

Parker does poke him then, right in the chest. “Hmm.” She says. “Do you even know?”

“No.” Eliot says after a moment. “I forgot somewhere along the way.”

“Is it - do you try and keep it a secret?” Hardison asks, because he’s got thoughts about what the general public - let alone certain governments - would do with someone who is immortal.

A brief, barely-there dark look flashes across Eliot’s face before he regains his composure. “Are you thinking of sharing with anyone?” 

“No. No.” Hardison is quick to answer. “I just - you’re not exactly shy about telling us.”

Eliot shrugs. “Parker figured it out not long after I moved in.” He says. “Which, how did you do that?”

Parker grins and bounces on the balls of her feet. “I stole a painting a few years ago from a museum in Bruges.”

Eliot makes a face. “I hate that painting.” He says with passion. “Suppose I should thank you for getting it out of the public eye.”

Hardison thinks maybe he should be a little worried that Parker just admitted to being a thief, but then again he didn’t try to deny it when Eliot called him a hacker. He supposes after being alive for centuries gives you a bit of an edge on picking things up. 

Parker nods. “I have it hanging up in the coat closet.” She tells him. 

\---

That evening, after Parker’s curiosity has been satisfied, Hardison settles back down at his computer and looks back over the accounts of Eliot throughout the years. He thinks of the offer he made Eliot earlier and starts the process of deleting everything he can find about Eliot online. It’ll be much harder for anyone to figure out Eliot’s story now. 

The painting, though - they’ll keep that. If only to laugh at.


End file.
